


Celebrations in the Forest

by Vault_Emblem



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Flying, Gen, Pre-Canon, Serenes Forest, Singing, Young Birdies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27757846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vault_Emblem/pseuds/Vault_Emblem
Summary: A young Naesala and a young Tibarn are sent to Serenes Forest to participate to a very special occasion. There's only one problem however: neither of them particularly wants to go.(Originally written for Ilargi Dantza)
Relationships: Naesala & Tibarn (Fire Emblem)
Kudos: 4





	Celebrations in the Forest

**Author's Note:**

> So this was an old work I wrote for the zine Ilargi Dantza, but then the project came to an end abruply and since I've seen some contributors posting their work, I've decided to do the same with mine. I hope you like it!

A young Naesala whistles as he wanders through the halls of Phoenicis castle, taking advantage of the fact that he’s the youngest and therefore less important member of the Kilvas’ convoy to explore the place. It hasn’t been much time since the two countries split, and thus he’s never been here.

_Technically_ he’s supposed to still be with the others, but he had grown bored with discussing politics – what does he care? It’s not like he’ll ever need any diplomatic skill – and decided to sneak out. If someone catches him he can always lie and say he got lost looking for a bathroom.

With his hands behind his back and the bold step, he’s the image of carelessness, but it’s all a front: in truth, Naesala is preoccupied. “Of what?” one may ask. Well, the answer is simple: this isn’t just a diplomatic meeting, but soon a new convoy of ravens and hawks will fly to Serenes and, in a show of goodwill towards their heron siblings, they will all sing together inside the forest.

Singing has never been Naesala’s strong suit; he wouldn’t say he’s completely bad at it, but he is no heron. How is he supposed to show up there and ridicule himself like this?

The truth is, he wasn’t even supposed to come.

He heard that there was a convoy leaving for Serenes and he invited himself along the ride; he wasn’t going to pass up a chance to meet with Reyson and Leanne, even if it meant to partake in some boring political congress or whatever they were going to do.

It was only once they were almost at Phoenicis that Nealuchi noticed him and informed him of what he had just gotten himself into, much to his shock.

It was too late to get back, however, so Naesala had resigned himself to the fact that, once they got to Serenes, he was going to sneak out again; he refused to undergo something so incredibly humiliating.

He just wanted to see his friends!

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of someone singing, or at least, attempting to, and even that seems too much of a compliment.

“Damn! I’ll never get this right!”

Naesala believes he recognizes that particular voice. Uh, he must’ve wandered off to the castle’s private quarters, because the voice that comes from behind the closed door on his left really sounds like Tibarn.

Thinking about it, he hasn’t met him yet; it would make sense if he’s been holed up in his room all this time.

However, Naesala is and will never pass up a chance to bother him, but first he needs to make sure of his actual identity. He presses himself against the door and he listens attentively; there are no doubts: it really is Tibarn, and he’s singing in ancient language what Naesala supposes is the song that they are supposed to perform in Serenes. He’s even surer of his identity when he hears a series of curse words after a moment in which his voice cracks; he really isn’t a good singer at all.

Time to make his entrance.

He clears his throat, knocking on the door.

“Your presence is urgently required, your princeliness,” he says pretending to be a guard, and the squeak that comes out of Tibarn is almost enough to make him laugh and blow his cover, though it doesn’t take the other long to realize that no guard ever would call him “his princeliness”.

There’s an unimpressed expression on his face when he opens the door.

“Naesala. I wasn’t expecting you here.”

“Surprise! I decided to invite myself to this _glorious_ event.”

At that, Tibarn can’t help but to snicker.

“Does that mean you’re going to be singing too? Do you want to kill the herons or what?”

It’s during times like this that Naesala remembers how young Tibarn still his. Even though he’s hit his growth spurt faster than any other birds his age – and Naesala will never forgive him for that – he’s still a dumbass who laughs at stupid things.

One could argue that the same can be said for Naesala himself but he likes to believe that he carries himself better than that.

“I’m surely a better singer than you! The way you were trying to hit that high note was pathetic. If the herons hear you I’m sure they will--”

Tibarn grabs him by an arm and pulls him inside, closing the door behind him with a quick movement.

“Will you shut up?! I don’t need everyone in the vicinity to know about this!” he says, looking outright embarrassed, and Naesala can’t help a chuckle.

“Even if they don’t know now, they will soon. What’s the point in hiding it?”

Tibarn grumbles something he doesn’t quite catch and looks away, a clear sign that victory is his.

“Still, I have to concede that this is stupid,” Naesala says then, walking to Tibarn’s way too big bed and sitting on it like this was actually his room, “Hawks and ravens singing? That’s ridiculous.”

At that, Tibarn sighs of relief.

“I know! It’s humiliating!” he agrees, joining Naesala on his bed, and the raven nods.

“I understand the sentiment behind it, but I still think it’s useless: why should we offer something like singing when it’s never been part of our lives?”, he asks, letting himself fall on the mattress with his back, eyes up to the ceiling, “Now flying… that would be better.”

“Flying?”

“Yes, flying,” Naesala shrugs, “Everyone flies, whether it’s for sport, to play, to go somewhere…” he shakes his head, “Anyway, it would be better than singing.”

“Too bad we don’t get to do our own thing,” Tibarn mutters, but Naesala is smirking when he looks down, “What?”

“We could…”

Tibarn recognizes that voice, is the voice Naesala uses when he’s up to something shady.

“We could sneak out.”

Usually, Tibarn would never do something so cowardly… but his pride as a hawk in on the line. Besides, with a troublemaker as experienced as Naesala, he doubts they’ll get caught.

“Well, I suppose with you it’ll be harder than I anticipated.” Naesala continues then, “You are big and noisy after all…”

He gets a pillow thrown to his face before he can even finish the sentence.

The journey from Phoenicis to Serenes is uneventful and extremely boring, as Naesala and Tibarn are flying separately with their own countrymen – they’ll be less suspicious if they do so.

Still, Naesala hopes Tibarn will be able to keep with the charade, because if they get caught it certainly wouldn’t be pleasant.

He’ll have to wait and see.

He spots him once they land; he’s looking around probably in search of him. When their eyes meet, he winks.

The herons’ welcome is as warm as always, and everyone feels right at home. There is no time for dwelling however, as preparations are made: they all regroup at the center of the forest, ready to sing together in harmony.

It’s then that Naesala manages to slip away and, after finding Tibarn, snatches him away by an arm. Soon the two begin to run away together, laughing at their – even if small – adventure.

Soon, however, they stop.

They can hear the chants being sung and… it’s not that bad. They expected a cacophony of sounds, but this actually works pretty well. There’s also a hint of magic in the air, meaning that the herons are taking part of the ceremony as well; maybe that’s the reason it sounds so well.

A beat.

Naesala and Tibarn look at each other and they smile. They don’t have to be able to read minds to understand what the other is thinking.

It takes them just a moment to transform, taking flight high up in the sky. They can see the forest underneath them, and they can still hear the echo of voices resonating within.

They twirl in circles, lowering themselves and then rising up again, their wings that brush against each other. Their special tribute to the forest, a dance born from the desire to be happy and carefree.

At the sight of white feathers, they understand soon that they’re not alone anymore. Others have witnessed their dance, and they want to partake in it.

It’s a cluster of hawks, ravens and herons, all making circles around each other, joining in the chants with their cries.

With such an audience, it doesn’t take long for Naesala to start to show off his skills, which, to be fair, are quite impressive – nobody can match his speed. This doesn’t mean of course that Tibarn will let himself be outdone like this, and neither will the other falcons and ravens present, and soon this dance becomes something more akin of a competition to see who can pull off the most risky maneuver. It’s a true spectacle, something that beorcs can never hope to achieve, an event that will always be remembered by the tribes.

Serenes has never been so alive.


End file.
